Gloom, Doom, and Coffee With Cedric Diggory
by Harmonic Friction
Summary: Harry Potter hates the world. Harry Potter wants to kill everyone. Except for Cedric Diggory, who makes life a lot sweeter when he treats Harry to a cup of coffee one Hogsmede weekend. [Slashy.]


**AN: **This is a gift fic for Twitch-Hopeless Savage, AKA my cousin Harry. He made Dudley get out of his comfort zone! Anyway, love you, cuz, and enjoy.

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**Gloom, Doom, and Coffee With Cedric Diggory**

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It was the beginning of spring, and being that it was a Hogsmede weekend, the town centre was filled to the brim with Hogwarts students, all of them shopping, spending galleons, or simply chatting the square. Everyone was extremely content. Everyone was having a wonderful time. 

Of course, not including Harry Potter, who had been sulking around all day with quite a sour glower on his thin lips. That morning, everything had seemed to go wrong for him. He'd woken up late, missed Quidditch practice, gotten into a spat with Ron over something he couldn't even recall, been chastised by Hermione for his low grade on the latest Potions pop quiz, and he was tired of life. _Particularly _because everyone else was enjoying it so very much.

Harry wasn't always this dowdy, but lately, he'd been feeling under the weather. He was in the midst of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, everyone was older than him, he hated flowers and springy weather, and he was fed up with school. It was at that half-way point in the year in which everything seems to move in slow motion. Malfoy had been particularly nasty lately, and every day that passed reminded Harry that he was doomed to return to the Dursleys', where he'd certainly be chastised for indirectly aiding in lengthening his cousin's tongue (long story—literally). Plus he was none too pleased to spend the hot, sticky summer nibbling on cabbage, grainy bread and other various diet foods. He could only pray that Dudley had beat his parents enough with his Smeltings stick so that they did not force healthy choices on him any more.

No matter how positive Harry tried to be, there was always gloom and doom getting in the way.

Hermione and Ron had tried to be pleasant to him today (Ron, mostly under Hermione's instruction), yet even _they _had given up. "Well," Hermione had said stuffily," find us when you want to be reasonable." Harry had glared. Ron had shrugged, but followed after the bushy haired girl as though breaking away from her company would induce an awful punishment. Harry knew the _real _reason as to why Ron followed after Hermione like a meek little berk, and he wished Ron was smart enough to see:

Ron _fancied _Hermione, though he didn't know it. Hermione _fancied _Ron though she didn't _want _to, and was waiting for Ron to quit being stupid. _Ron_ was waiting for Hermione to realize he was never going to stop being stupid.

Harry usually thought it was cute, but lately, it was just plain obnoxious. He always wanted to shove them into each other and scream "THERE YOU GO!", but he wasn't that kind of person. He'd rather brood about it constantly and feel like slapping someone.

Harry sighed, and paused between the cross-street of the Hogsmede centre. Nothing seemed to be worth it, anymore. He wasn't sure where this feeling had sprung from, but he hated it. He wanted so much to be in tune with everyone else's happiness, except they seemed so distant, so far away. The older students seemed so cool, but they wanted nothing of him. Cho Chang had even worn out her charm. He no longer got butterflies in his stomach when he saw her pass—he rather felt sick instead. He wondered why he had ever made such a big deal about liking her. She was attractive, yes, but she wasn't really anything to fawn over, at least to him. He had started telling himself to like her after Ron had showed such an indiscreet interest in girls, and had asked Harry who _he _fancied. But Harry didn't fancy anyone (he thought), so Cho seemed to be a good choice. The other boys seemed to like her.

As for other girls: Hermione was nice, but uninteresting in a romantic sense, and Pansy Parkinson (whom Ron seemed to think was "wank-worthy") just didn't make Harry feel anything (except slight pity, for her skirts seemed to be getting too small for her behind).

Now when Draco Malfoy sassed him—he felt something then, but he told himself it was just discomfort. And Viktor Krum from _Bulgaria_ had beautiful biceps, but Harry was only admiring them in an envious way.

Cedric Diggory, though. There was where Harry couldn't convince himself he had any other reason to feel _something._

Harry liked Cedric Diggory simply because Diggory was beautiful. Gorgeous. _Dishy_.

He'd tried to tell himself that it was jealousy; that he wanted to **be **Cedric, and that this _feeling _he had when he saw Cedric was sparked by good old masculine aggression, not fondness, and certainly, _certainly, _not a crush.

_Crushes left the mouth dry, right?_ Harry leaned against the brick wall of Delly's Delicious Decadence and deliberated. _And crushes were all about love and gushy romance, and holding hands? _Harry cringed. He definitely wasn't about _that_. At least, he'd never thought about it at all. He supposed it wouldn't be so bad, at least if he didn't have to go through it with someone like Ginny Weasley.

'No,' thought Harry Potter. 'I most definitely do NOT have a crush on Cedric Diggory!'

"All right, Harry?" asked a smooth voice just ahead of him.

Harry, heart pounding hugely in his chest, looked up. His throat instantly went rough as sand.

Before him was Cedric in the flesh, beaming with that somewhat-cheesy, "I'm a Heartthrob" smile. His perfect, straight teeth, and brown, soft bangs.

"Uh… What?" Harry asked stupidly, his mouth hanging open. He suddenly felt as though his tongue were tons heavier.

The Hufflepuff's dimples deepened. "I asked if you were all right. But clearly…" He cocked his head to the side, inferring… what?

'_That I'm not okay, that I'm crazy!? '_ thought Harry and tried to grin.

It came out looking like a grimace. "Yeah," he said, a little bitterly, as he was attempting to be savage and manly to counteract Cedric's good-looking perfection. "_Yeah, _I'm fine!"

Cedric only beamed harder. "You don't seem fine. Is it about the task? If so, I completely understand. I'm going mad thinking about it—"

"No," Harry said flatly. "It's not _that_." His voice was sharp and alarming.

"Oh." Cedric's smile faded, if only a teeny bit. "Well, you know, maybe I could help?"

Subconsciously, Harry hung back against the wall. "You know… that's all right! It's stupid stuff."

Cedric looked back and forth for a second. "Does it have something to do with your friends being elsewhere?"

"_No,"_ Harry glowered, and kicked a pebble.

Cedric stared. "Seems odd not to see you with those other two—what are their names? The bloke's Ron Weasley, right?"

"_Yeah. _Ron. And Hermione," barked Harry.

"Are you _sure _it has nothing to do with them?" pressed Cedric.

Harry shrugged. "Well. Maybe."

"So, where are they? You have a row?" Cedric strode forward, looking like he thought Harry was pathetic.

"Not exactly. More like they thought I was being a jerk, so they gave me time to _cool off." _He snorted.

"Ah. The old 'You're making _us _feel uncomfortable, so we're going to act like this is all _your _problem'," Cedric nodded.

"What, your friends do it to you, too?"

The older boy smiled. "Everyone has bad moods, Harry."

Harry grinned back yet suddenly felt very brainless. "Yeah, I know," he said," but you sort of always seem pretty put together."

"Harry, if only you _knew. _" Cedric shook his head, his bangs lolling from side to side, and to Harry's great excitement and fear, he walked over the brick wall and stood against it as well. Harry was only inches away from Cedric Diggory. "Just last week I was so put out by the tournament that everyone ignored me for three days, like I was some sort of sickness," Cedric continued.

Looking sideways at him, Harry could see the rise and fall of the boy's chest against his clean, blue shirt.

"So it doesn't really matter," Cedric was saying, eying Harry. "People are always going to be frustrated when you're unhappy. People like to get along, generally."

"I guess so…" Harry put in, but lately, he wasn't too sure. This year had been pretty dramatic so far. He'd had his first long argument with Ron, Hermione had chewed them both out, Malfoy was impossible and Harry hated being the center of attention. It was starting to get old.

Cedric patted him on the shoulder, and Harry felt as though he were diving into warm water. "What do you say I buy you a coffee or something? We could talk somewhere that _isn't _in front of an alley way." He made nodded toward the brick wall ahead of them, where someone had tagged _EAT DRAGON PIES _in a glittery spell.

"Yes!" Harry said instantly, blushing. "I mean—I have money, too, I could treat you, you know or—"

"Nah," said Cedric good-naturedly. "I asked you first. So you're up for it?" The brown-haired boy smiled.

"Of course, I love coffee," Harry nodded. (He'd never had it in his life.)

--

"Sugar, Harry?" Cedric asked with a good-natured smile. Harry had just discovered that coffee had a very bitter taste.

Nodding briskly, Harry accepted the sugar bowl from Diggory," Yes, thanks."

"So…" Cedric smiled, almost amusedly. Harry wanted to ask if his face hurt from always looking so happy, but refrained. "Good classes this year, Harry?"

The boy was struggling to make conversation, and Harry knew this. Feeling more than a bit uncomfortable, he shrugged. "All right, I guess. I don't really think about school that much."

"Me neither. It's the tasks that matter _now_," Cedric snapped, and then blushed.

Harry looked at him in interest. "What?"

"Oh. My _dad," _Cedric said annoyingly. "You know, before it was quidditch. Quidditch _this, _quidditch _that. _Now, it's a letter every damned _day _about how to play it, how to win the tournament! He's just so obsessed with _winning! _I can't stand it! But I can't _stop, _and for once, I just want to fail at something to see what he'd say!" Cedric heaved a painful sigh and took a sip of his amaretto coffee.

Harry awkwardly nodded.

"I'm sorry," Cedric put in quickly," here I am, talking all about my dad when I should feel lucky that—"

"Don't say it," Harry commanded. "Just because mine's dead doesn't mean other people can't talk about it," he said quietly. "I wish everyone would just talk freely about their parents around me, it would make life a lot easier."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Cedric said again.

"_Don't be."_

Cedric tapped his spoon against his saucer. "Well…" He was struggling again to make conversation. Harry wanted to scream.

Instead, he spoke:

"Hermione and Ron are obsessed with each other!" he burst out, wanting to say _anything _to make Cedric forget about Dads and tasks. "They're obsessed with each other and they bloody act like they're _not _and it drives me insane! They're always fighting, and going off alone, and I'm sure that means they fight even _more _but they **LIKE IT.**"

Cedric raised an eyebrow. Harry had never spoken this much to him and he wasn't sure how to take it. "Third wheel?" he questioned softly.

"In a way," Harry said darkly. "But see, then they act like it doesn't happen!"

"Well," Cedric said slowly. "Maybe you'd feel better if you had someone who liked you, too. Maybe it would be less annoying."

Harry sighed bitterly. "I don't know. I don't think I could _deal _with it!" He took a drink of his coffee and ruffled his bangs.

"I know what you mean. Like, just another thing to do," Cedric remarked. "But, I mean, do you like anyone?"

To Harry, Cedric sounded like an adult relative asking questions to make the child feel as though they were having bonding time. Not that Harry had much experience in that area, but sometimes Uncle Vernon asked him about how the grass looked at Hogwarts.

"I don't know!" Harry said loudly to Cedric. "I mean—"

"Is it Hermione?"

"Is _what _Hermione?" Harry asked, confused.

Cedric tapped his spoon again. "I mean… do you fancy Hermione? Is that why you're upset?"

Harry was silent for a minute. "It should be it," he said," but it's not, not _really._" He shrugged, and slid his fingers over the grainy wood of the table. He shrugged again at Cedric.

The fair-haired boy kept tapping his spoon and shrugged back. "Is it Weasley?"

"_What?" _Harry said, alert.

"Sorry," Cedric said quickly," I shouldn't—I thought maybe— you might—"

Harry looked around wildly. "I might _what?"_

"Well, if it's not Hermione, I thought…"

Harry went pale.

Cedric waited.

"Maybe," Harry said very quietly. "But—not really. But… maybe? Sort of! I don't know! I mean—" he dropped into a whisper—" he's my _friend, _but I mean, there's something, something—"

"It's all right, Harry," Cedric said plainly. "I know exactly what you're talking about."

Harry blinked. "You _what?" _

"I thought I was barmey because I was always jealous when my mates suddenly had girlfriends, and I thought I was insane when I'd get all upset over my father questioning me about girls," Cedric said. "I mean, he _still _thinks Cho Chang and I are into each other, she's really nice about it and gives me a good cover."

"You mean…?"

Cedric grinned that beaming smile. "Yeah."

Harry laughed out loud for no reason and then thought for a moment. _'If Cedric Diggory knows what I'm talking about, then maybe I'm not so weird after all.' _

"Well, what about girls in short skirts?" Harry asked defiantly.

"What?"

"I mean, like… slaggy-looking girls and the Veela. What do you think of them?"

Cedric sighed. "Veela are creatures that feed off men, Harry, so of course the magic works to a certain extent, but I don't think about them when I'm not around them like other blokes—"

"Me, too!"

"As for _slaggies._" Cedric shrugged. "I kind of feel sorry for them. That's all."

"Me too!" Harry beamed.

Cedric smiled back. "I sort of figured. Sorry, no offense."

"It's okay! Really, you don't need to worry about offending me!" Harry said back. He was just grateful something was making sense.

The two of them finished their hot drinks in silence after that, Harry wishing he was cool enough to think of something to say that would impress the older boy, but he came up with nothing. He was very disgruntled when they finished their beverages and Cedric paid the tab.

"It was nice talking to you, Harry," Cedric told him nicely. "I hope everything turns out for you—it has for me. I mean, sure, it's a bit weird—some of my mates don't quite get it, but you'll always discover who truly cares the most about you when you tell them. It takes a true friend to accept you for who you are."

Harry nodded, this little speech going in his ear and out; he wanted desperately to say something notable, _why couldn't he ever be cool on command?_

He ruffled his hair and smiled at Cedric dimly. "Er, thanks a lot for the coffee, Cedric." It felt odd calling the boy something other than 'Diggory'. Odd, but nice.

"Of course, Harry. No problem!" Cedric nodded. "You shouldn't feel so bad about your mates—it'll make sense soon."

Harry swallowed briskly and nodded back. "Sure, I think so, too." _Say something, you sod! Anything! _"I—er—" he began. "I owe you for the coffee. Let me take you next time?" Harry's voice went a little higher as he asked the question.

Cedric looked taken aback. "You don't owe me! I was happy to do it!"

"I really want to repay you, though. Let me treat you next weekend?" Once again, it came out as a pathetic question.

"Are you asking me out on a date, then?" asked Cedric good-naturedly.

Harry was sure he was a failure then. Nice, attractive Cedric Diggory. He didn't stand a _chance. _He shouldn't have said _anything. _He should have—

"If you are, that's absolutely great," the brown-golden haired boy went on. "I would have asked you out first, but I thought you were hung up on Ron Weasley."

Harry stared wide-eyed. "You—do—I mean, Ron—no—just—friends—"

Cedric laughed lightly. "Yes, Harry, I'll go with you!"

Grinning broadly, Harry Potter did what he did best—he acted out rashly without any thought. He stepped forward, pressed his chest to Cedric's, wrapped his arm around the boy's neck and kissed him deeply.

At last, they broke their lips apart and Cedric sighed. "Blimey Harry—I had no idea—"

"Me either—"

Cedric pushed his lips onto Harry's again and wove his long-fingered hands through the boy's black locks.

'_I love life!' _Harry thought wildly. _'Life is great! Life is fantastic!' _

And at once, the world looked just as sunny as everyone else thought it was.

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End file.
